Girl Time
by Shaw Fujikawa
Summary: Champions aren't always acting as the figureheads of their chosen city-state, alliance or even themselves. Quinn finds out how four other women happen to spend their time outside the spotlight.


**DISCLAIMER: Me owning League would be a logical paradox. My works suck, and yet League is awesome! So you see, logically I cannot own it.**

**If you're a new reader of mine and just tuned in to this to have a look-see, then hello there! If you're an older reader of mine (not that there are many) and you're scratching your head wonder where I went the past year - then shouldn't you be used to it? I gave myself like two months before I went straight back to writers-block-ville. Must be a yearly thing for me. D:**

**The concept for this story actually spawned a little after Lissandra was released and I was thinking to myself, "You know, Quinn's one cool chick," and then I thought to myself, "Hey let's write a story for her!" and that was about it, really. Sort of started off with only the vaguest idea of what the story would be about and winged it the rest of the time. Sort of sounds like the motto of my fanfic-life, in hindsight...  
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**But you're hear to read, aren't you? Not listen to some nobody writer bemoan his bad habits! Forward!**

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Girl Time

Demacian Countryside

The fine early-morning mist enshrouding the ubiquitous pine trees of the Demacian lowlands made for a spectacular view to any intrepid traveller, especially in the beautiful orange light of the autumn sunrise. To Quinn, who had traversed this kind of terrain many times before in her career, the serene environment had simply become synonymous with uncomfortable sleeping positions, damp mornings and an all-around unpleasant place to hike through. At least it was a great motivator for being on the move early and often.

Yawning widely, she stretched her arms above her head to work out the kinks they had developed during her night sleeping in a coarse-weave hammock, squinting up afterwards to confirm her partner was where he had perched himself last night. Sure enough, Valor was still there, standing stock still as he was with both eyes shut. Any outside observer would be forgiven for thinking he was asleep.

Rolling her eyes, she swiped a small pebble off the ground and tossed it at him. Eyes abruptly snapping open, Valor flapped his wings to lever himself out of harm's way as the stone whistled past.

"I know you're awake, Val, stop trying," she said in a mildly amused tone. The eagle squawked in annoyance and hopped down to land on her horizontally-held arm. "I know it's early, but come on. We have to get moving again soon or we'll miss the deadline."

Huffing a little, Val gave several giant flaps to get himself airborne, quickly becoming a small speck in the sky as Quinn watched his ascent. Shaking her head to clear the last vestiges of tiredness from her mind, she efficiently packed away her sleeping gear and dwindling stash of supplies and continued to head in an easterly direction to continue her trek from last night.

What business could the feared Demacian ranger duo possibly have in the middle of the Demacian countryside?

The woman stared intently down at the ground, keeping watch for particular signs that would indicate a previous wayfarer's passage. Soon enough, she spotted her prize – a peculiar patch of depressed dirt. Following its direction, she spotted more – crushed grass, a broken stem, a dislodged rock…

You see, the majority of champions of the League simply did not want to all play the role of the super serious and enigmatic figurehead of their chosen city-state 100% of the time.

Quinn blinked and looked up as she heard the faintest crackle of a smokeless fire in the distance. Looking up, she could see Valor making sharp figures of eight in the air – his signal for spotting a potential danger. Steeling herself, Quinn crouched lower to the ground and advanced forward, beginning to spot faint glowers of orange through the foggy treescape.

Some champions, in light of this fact, chose merely to retreat to a quiet place, relax, and wind down for their next stint in the public spotlight. Others, such as Quinn, took a different route.

Managing to reach the edge of a glade in the forest, she immediately noted that its sole occupant had clearly been or was intending to stay here for a while. A small brown tent had been erected beside a welcoming little campfire, at which a ring of fallen tree trunks was host to a seated brown-cloaked figure with their back to Quinn, concealing their identity. Narrowing her eyes, she advanced further and even slower towards her target, footsteps barely making any noise amidst the undergrowth and what little they did remaining disguised by the crackle of burning wood.

You see, the ranger duo weren't here to scout, track or even attend in the name of the Demacian crown family.

Merely meters from her target, Quinn slowly reached back and grasped the handle of the crossbow on her back, preparing to whisk it out at a moment's notice.

No; she, and her compatriots, were there merely to do something rather different.

Without warning, her target suddenly whirled in their seated position, lifting their arm and retracting the sleeve in one fluid motion to reveal a silver-etched crossbow affixed to a steel gauntlet. At the same moment, Quinn reacted to the movement by tearing her crossbow from its place and lifting it as well.

Something that they fondly liked to term…

Both parties locked their weapons on to each other simultaneously and froze. After an awkward few seconds of shock, Quinn lifted her eyes away from the deadlock to stare at a familiar pair of red shades enshrouded by the shadow of the cloak's hood.

"Good to see you haven't lost your touch, Quinn," Vayne said smoothly.

… girl time.

Quinn scowled and straightened as Vayne pulled her hood back to reveal her usual tightly wound ponytail and return to facing the fire. "I'll get you next time."

"If I'm feeling generous enough to let you win next year, then certainly."

Scowling even deeper for just a moment, her expression faded and was replaced with mild curiosity. "How have the past few months been for you, Vayne?"

"They didn't tell you during your bi-weekly reports to the city council?"

Quinn looked momentarily stunned. "H-how did you know about those when they were only instated one week ago…?"

"The same way I know that Val has a fondness for ginger biscuits, that you have at least a dozen Pentakill posters hanging up on your bedroom wall and that you have a huge crush on-"

"Alright, alright, I get it!" Quinn said desperately, waving her arms in a Vayne (ha!) attempt to get the assassin to stop. "Why do you always do that?"

"Because it amuses me." Vayne smiled and reached up to take her glasses off and deposited them on her lap as an amused Valor swooped down to perch himself on her arm. She petted him on the head as he cooed appreciatively. "Come, sit. We've much to catch up on."

Managing to control her sarcastic side long enough to find a comfortable position in the gradually dehumidifying air, Quinn said, "To answer your question, the council informed me that they'd been hearing reports of a few nobles in the eastern district having some unfortunate accidents – they sounded too contrived to me to be accidents, so I naturally suspected it was your doing…"

Vayne closed her eyes and nodded. "You are correct."

"What was it for this time?"

"A trio of warlocks. Black magic extraordinaires, or so they liked to believe." Vayne smirked. "Doesn't that bring up memories…"

There was a moment of contemplative silence, and Quinn momentarily wondered if the Night Hunter was making a tongue-in-cheek statement about her sustained isolation. "You could always leave it to us to deal with if it troubles you," she suggested. "I'm sure Marisa would agree with me."

"You're already pushing the limits of your loyalty to Demacia just by meeting me here." Vayne sounded tired, as if she'd heard this sort of talk before. "Just imagine how disappointed your superiors would be if they discovered a setup like _that_."

"It's still not something you should shoulder by yourself."

"I appreciate your concern, but it is unneeded. I've handled it myself for thirty years, I can handle it now."

Quinn fell silent. She couldn't press further than that.

Quite conveniently, a curious scent wafted into the clearing, prompting both women to turn in their seats.

A four-pronged sword that was amusingly host to a few dangling bags of what looked to be food slowly drifted into the clearing, followed by its owner. Devoid of her usual attire, Quinn almost didn't recognise Irelia at first, as she'd donned a more practical set of fur-lined traveller's clothes instead of her ceremonial Ionian battlearmor. It was the wavy silver hair and red hair ornaments that gave her away after a few moments of analysis.

"Irie," Vayne called. "Welcome back."

"Greetings from Ionia," was the mild reply as she approached. "And I hope you have gifts for me. I had to walk nearly three days to get all the way to Demacia, and that was WITH an airship lift to the Institute."

"The last meet was in Ionia," Vayne retorted.

"Yes, it's terrible, isn't it?" Irelia sighed dramatically. "It's relatively easy for me to excuse myself for several days under the guise of League business. But what private business could I have that takes me away for less than a day since I couldn't possibly leave Ionia in that time? That means you owe me twofold now!"

Vayne's face contorted in mild disgust. "The nerve of you these days…"

Irelia's face split into an easygoing grin and Quinn couldn't help but smirk a little along with her. Despite being the epitome of a serious Ionian soldier when in the Institute and when addressing the press, she let her relative youth become apparent when in more personable settings. Not least of which was the tendency to relentlessly infuriate her older female friends – Quinn was still young enough to find humour in the jokes, though she liked to believe she'd outgrown such silly behaviours.

"Enough of Vayne's prudishness," Irelia continued, strolling into the circle of tree trunks and casually sitting down. "I brought some food so we can stay a while and eat." She indicated the bags her sword was dutifully holding for her.

"Why can't Valor hold my packs for me?" Quinn wondered out loud. Val shot her a dirty look.

Irelia smiled. "My blade is not only precise-"

"Here she goes again," Vayne grumbled.

"-but totally handy," the Hiten practitioner finished. She glowered at Vayne. "And you're one to talk! Aren't you always going on and revealing some of our embarrassing secrets at least once every meet?"

"At least there's a method to my statements. I am propagating the belief that there is no keeping secrets from the Night Hunter," Vayne said.

"To people who will probably never even talk about their encounters with you," she retorted.

"You might, someday."

"Feh." Irelia threw her arms up in defeat. "You're as enraging as you are slippery."

Vayne merely smiled victoriously and let the subject drop, patting Valor a few times on the head before letting him go. The bird immediately swooped over to Irelia who'd just begun to unpack her bags full of preserved meat and vegetables.

Quinn spoke up, "Irelia?"

"Hmm?"

"You're wearing perfume?"

"Mhm."

"What is it?"

"It's the nectar of the Korraya flower. I felt like sprucing up this year." Irelia peered over at the ranger as she pierced the fillets of meat onto a spit. "Why do you ask?"

Immediately recognising her lack of tact, she backpedalled shyly with, "Just curious," which was of course completely ruined by the prominent blush on her cheeks.

Irelia grinned evilly. "Of _course_," she said in such a sickeningly sweet and mocking voice Quinn felt like she was about to spontaneously acquire toothache.

"It smells nice," Vayne commented. "Is it expensive?"

Irelia visibly caught herself from glaring at her again and Quinn made a mental note to thank the assassin afterwards for the change of subject. "It's not uncommon in Ionia, though I've no doubt its price is higher in Demacia as it has to exported there."

Vayne nodded thoughtfully. "True."

The next several minutes were filled with idle chatter – the events of the past year, the latest gossip from Demacia, more of Lee Sin's cryptic statements – until they were interrupted when the faint whispers of a conversation echoed through the misty air. Turning in their seats, they saw bright, warming yellow light filtering through the gaps in the trees moments before a delicate hand set itself around a tree trunk, followed by a head with flowing red locks and hazel brown eyes.

"Good to see you all, ladies!" Leona said, her sunny disposition (ha!) as expressive as ever. The normally heavily-armoured avatar of the Sun had, much like Irelia, dropped her usual outfit impractical for casual use for a less flattering brown outfit made of coarse fabric, although on her back she still hauled her iconic Solari zenith blade and shield. How she managed to carry that around so easily, Quinn would probably never know.

As the returning smiles and 'hello's came out to return the favour, another figure stepped out behind Leona bearing a somewhat more reserved demeanour. Ashe hadn't opted to change too much from her default outfit aside from her carrying pack, which she had slung around the back of her waist so as to not get in the way of her cloak and icy bow.

"Looks like the group is all here," the archer said appreciatively.

"Woo!" Irelia called triumphantly. "Girl Time, go!"

Leona's face bearing a radiant smile at her enthusiasm and Ashe merely smiling in amusement, the two newcomers approached and seated themselves at the last remaining spaces around the campfire. Cawing in happiness, Valor left his perch next to Irelia temporarily to swoop over to Ashe's arm and land there, expecting some measure of pampering. Ashe, laughing freely, reached up to rub the Demacian eagle on the head. "Oh, you, Valor. Still as entitled as ever."

After gently depositing their packs on the ground beside them, Quinn spoke up: "Fashionably late, as usual."

"Leona was insisting she lead the way instead of letting me do it for once," Ashe explained. "We ended up walking in circles for half an hour before I decided to fix the problem myself."

"Using a mystical hawk to scout for you is cheating and doesn't count," Leona said defensively.

"You know what they say," Irelia said, "'All is fair in love and war.'" Leona and Ashe both glared at her. "What?"

"You three make for better comedy than a pantomime," Vayne said. All three women glared at her. "It's true."

Quinn cleared her throat. "Come on, ladies, let's save the sparring for the Fields of Justice. We're just here to chill for a while, not get at each other's throats." The other four women glared at her. "Oh, come on!"

"This happens every year, Quinn," Leona said. "Don't take it too seriously."

The ranger managed a wry smile in response. This being her first meet to participate in would probably have left her a little out of the loop despite having being friends with at least three of the members here for a few years now.

"Still, Quinn's summation is pretty accurate," Ashe said. She turned to said woman. "Is Demacia faring well these past months?"

Quinn nodded. "Spirits seem to be high in the populace, which I personally find odd given the rumours around the Shadow Isles that are making its way around."

"The ones saying there's a new ghost in town?" Irelia asked, staring intently.

"Yes." She frowned. "You knew?"

Irelia leaned forward, her voice taking a darker tone. "There's much the same rumours going around in Ionia. The Placidium, Galrin, everywhere. People are laying out oni masks everywhere in fright. It worries me, especially since I've not heard a word of any movements from the Shadow Isles champions at the Institute."

"My people usually seem more concerned with the other tribes' movements than bad omens, though I admit that I haven't been paying much attention to idle gossip," Ashe added.

"The Solari are too isolated for me to comment on this," Leona admitted. "Shauna?"

All eyes turned to Vayne, who was pinching the bridge of her nose in what Quinn guessed to be deep thought.

"… I will look into this myself later," she said after a moment. "Whether it's all rumours or part of a larger plan, I will put a stop to it." Her hand returned to her side but her eyes remained shut.

Vayne had a habit of rapidly silencing any conversations about the nefarious arcane when she made statements like that, Quinn decided, as, after an impatient squawk from Val, Leona just shrugged and said, "Then we'll have to hope for the best. Best of luck with that, Shauna. In the meantime, let's enjoy ourselves. Irelia, you were planning on cooking something fancy?"

Irelia grinned again, returning to her younger self. "Yep. It's gonna' be big."

Ashe chuckled. "She'll probably burn it and call the soot on the outside part of the texture." Irelia glared at her, but dutifully returned to her task of cooking a meal for the three regardless.

The clearing seemed to quieten then as group conversation gradually wound down over the next half hour or so and each member tended to their own business for a few minutes. Irelia maintained her tending to the spit roast, with Valor continuing to peer over her shoulder at the delicious slabs of beef. Leona and Ashe had struck up a private conversation about something while Vayne had quietly retreated to someplace within her mind as she let her eyes unconsciously dance over the flickering flames, undoubtedly in the midst of contemplating the many 'why's and 'what's of the universe. Not wanting to disturb any of them, Quinn gently stood up from her seat and moved some ways away before sitting down again at the edge of the clearing. Reaching into her pack, she pulled out a worn leather-bound book, a small glass bottle filled with ink and a quill.

It was time to turn scenes into sketches and thoughts into text.

Flitting through the first dozen or so pages and arriving at the next blank page after her highly-originally titled 'Journey Into the Freljord' entry, she paused for a moment, deciding on an appropriate title.

She rolled her eyes upon recalling a certain line spoken by Irelia earlier. "Girl Time," she whispered. "Can't believe I'm doing this. I think I left my creativity back in Demacia."

After scribbling down the title at the top of the page nonetheless, she set to work on her journal.

_As a young, fresh recruit into the Demacian military it was hard to not look upon the League and feel as though you ultimately had no influence on the world's affairs compared to those who fought in it. Champions back then were the pinnacles of our country's achievement, the ultimate dedication of service to Demacia and her people. What could one peasant girl with her bird friend do to shape the events of the continent compared to the crown prince of Demacia himself and some of the finest magic-users known to mankind? And yet despite being here, now, a League champion myself, it's difficult for me to not still feel that way without rationalizing my position._

_I write this even as I sit here against a tree trunk with four of the most venerable champions to participate in the League's work casually discussing the latest perfumes in Ionia and sporting events in Freljord. Everyday things. Things an order of magnitude different to what I could have ever expected coming in to the League. Perhaps that's all just part of the job. When you're in a position so long all of its caveats become commonplace, how can you not begin treating it like a second life and once daily events become rare?_

Quinn paused for a moment. What to write next? She held the thought for a second longer before coming to a decision.

Looking up, she observed Irelia sitting as she was at the fire. The Will of the Blades had starting speaking again with Ashe and obviously incredibly amused at something. As she watched, she said something which had the archer frowning in abject confusion and spurred a bout of chuckles from the younger woman. Quinn returned her gaze to her book and started sketching.

After a minute or two, she was finally satisfied with the drawing, which depicted her grinning crazily and tending to her cooking while speaking to an offscreen soul. Quinn shifted her position to a more comfortable pose and began to write again.

_Out of all the women here, Irelia shattered my expectations the most. The hero of Ionia, she who drove the Noxians back from the brink of victory at the gates of the Placidium and she fought the Dark Sovereign to a dead standstill even on her own territory, casually pulling pranks on her fellow champions and laughing as easily as if she found every line hysterical? Who would have thought? Her moral compass never seems to waver even during the worst of these bouts, though, so she knows when she takes it too far and is fast to apologise for it. I'm glad she embraces her youth for what it is, which could be just what she needs given what she is said to have gone through already._

Glancing up momentarily, Quinn starting sketching Leona. The Radiant Dawn was soon preserved in ink with a carefree laugh on her face and her hands clasped together in approval. Nodding, she wrote on.

_I don't know Leona very well, but her outward personality is as clear as the day her sun lords over. She's almost matronly in her patience and generosity to the rest of us. Irelia finds that condescending (stubborn girl) but I don't mind it. It's very different to what I would expect for someone said to embrace a relentless regimen of study, prayer and exercise when not involved in League duties. If the Solari's policy is to create a figurehead that others can get behind easily, it seems to be working out well for them._

Before Quinn could quite start sketching Ashe, she was startled as Valor thunked down onto the ground next to her. The eagle had a pair of skewers held in his beak and was glowering at her expectantly. Giggling a little, she plucked the sticks of meat and vegetables from him and gave him a ruffle of the feathers on his head. "Thank you, Val."

He squawked in reply (Quinn assumed he meant to welcome her) and promptly took flight again to go and beg Irelia for more scraps of meat. Smiling, she took a large bite. The meat was perfectly cooked and mouth-wateringly juicy. She made a mental note to compliment Irelia on her cooking as she stabbed the skewers into the ground to save them for later as she continued to write.

The Frost Archer was soon neatly embroidered onto the page herself, hood down and white hair flowing rather more gracefully than it did in real life as she smiled and laughed at some joke from an offscreen participant.

_Ashe's presence is as comforting now as it was those few months ago when I first visited Freljord. She has barely changed at all. All I can say is that I enjoy her company and I can easily appreciate her attitude towards our kind of work in spite of her position as leader of the largest tribe in Freljord. We have much in common._

The last one was, of course, Vayne. Quinn bit her tongue for a few moments as she considered how best to portray the Night Hunter. Eventually, she drew a neutral expression with the faintest of smiles curling her lips. Her eyes were difficult to draw, Quinn had a lot of emotion she planned to put into them, but settled on an expression using narrowed eyes that conveyed mild amusement– and what she hoped was a sense of inner longing with it. With a short breath, she started writing again.

_In spite of being the first person of the group I met a few years ago, Vayne has remained much of an enigma to me. She has her moments of light-heartedness, but overall she maintains the stolid immovable image of the person who must do which others never dare to, and quite consistently, even in casual company. I worry that her constant attempts to sustain this image will end up hurting her in the end – I know well what continued isolation can do to a person, having come close to experiencing it myself – but she seems insistent that she can handle it. I'll be here if she ever needs an ear and a heart to talk to._

She took a moment to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face before starting to wrap up her journal entry.

_I suppose the moral of this story is that – most of us – are only human after all. We're not puppets in a children's game doling out the will of our superiors to be stuffed away in the night and pulled out in the morning at their whim. We have emotions and wants and fears too. Sometimes people can fail to respect that, and eventually the champions get used to it and unconsciously start believing that a puppet is all they are themselves._

Startled by hearing her name called, Quinn looked up to see the group of people and Valor waving to get her attention. She looked down again quickly, resolving to finish before they got impatient.

_I'm glad I attended this meet of theirs. It's shown me that at least some champions out there haven't forgotten who they are in spite of that. Although I suppose Irelia could probably stand to tone down the childishness a tad, I'm happy to call them friends._

Clapping her book shut and stashing away her quill in its sheath, she hastily stood to greet the other four women once more.

Irelia rolled her eyes. "You and your books again."

"Journal," Quinn corrected.

"Even worse."

"Anyway," Leona interjected before the creative discussion could get too heated, "we just wanted to let you know that it was my turn to choose a place for the next meet."

"And it is…?" the ranger prompted.

"A beach!" the Radiant Dawn said proudly.

She blanched. "Uh, I thought it was meant to be a private location."

"It's next to a remote lake, dear."

"Oh."

Ashe stared skyward, analysing the position of the sun gradually dropping down in the sky. "This was a good meet, everyone. Thank you all for attending."

"I agree," Vayne said shortly.

"Would have been less awkward for me without this big lug staring over my shoulder the whole time," Irelia joked, lightly elbowing Valor. The eagle squawked in annoyance and pecked her arm in revenge.

"You enjoy your first time with us, Quinn?" Leona inquired.

The ranger nodded. "It's been… an enlightening trip."

"And we'll have many more in the years to come, I hope," Ashe finished. They all stood. "I wish you all well."

The exchange between them lasted only ten seconds and Quinn was already missing the other womens' comforting presence as they all drifted their separate ways, finding herself alone again in the Demacan countryside.

A screech from above signalled that Valor was ready to move again. With a minute sigh, Quinn made her way through the brush and began her long trek back to the city just as the sun began to pass through the clouds on the horizon.

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**And nothing of value was ever accomplished anywhere. T_T**

**On a more serious note, I love the lore behind League. The newer approach to background writing has left a lot more freedom when it comes to continuing a character's story whether that's in fanfiction or RiotRansom doodling as usual, on top of the usual rich history it already has. Of course, the fact that it's being constantly updated can mean your story ends up being outdated not long after you publish it, but that's a small price to pay. The glory is in the writing!**

**May or may not consider updating my other stories now that I'm in the writing mood. We'll see. For now, I hope you enjoyed this grossly biased view of what girls do in their spare time to tide you over. :)  
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**Signing off,  
Shaw Fujikawa**


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